Senseless
by YourContagiousDisease
Summary: His beauty is his blessing–and his curse. He spends his free time messing around with women, until one night, he meets a woman that he's not so sure he can conquer. But you have to admit fate has its ways. And it loves poking fun b4 it gets to the point


A/N: I've decided to try this one out...for a second time. At a different account. It's unedited just to let you know as well. Enjoy!

Chapter One

**Backward Sense**

_**When the lights are dim and your heart is racing as your fingers touch your skin,  
I've got more wit, a better kiss, a hotter touch, a better fuck  
Than any boy you'll ever meet, sweetie you had me.**_

-Panic At the Disco

_-_

Syaoran glanced away. How long was this going to last? Tapping his fingers against the table, he shoveled the remaining food into his mouth as fast as he could, holding a hand up to the waiter.

"Hey," a slightly annoyed voice called him back. "What are you doing? I'm not done yet,"

He turned amber eyes to the dark-haired beauty before him, blue eyes husky and inviting but paying no attention to the barely touched meal before her.

An almost condescending smile tilted his lips.

"Well," he leaned forward, watching as she did the same in anticipation. He lowered his voice to just above a whisper, "Sweetie, as far as I'm concerned," a hand drew over her cheek teasingly, "This dinner's already over." Abruptly, he stood up. He accepted the tab that the waiter brought with a small thank you and placed a few bills onto it, flashing a smile at the cute blond.

"But–what, Syaoran!" she stood up, shocked. "I barely ate anything!"

"And I doubt you'll ever eat anything," he muttered under his breath.

"What?"

"Nothing," he emended innocently. _Bimbo. _"Doesn't matter," gathering up the fortune cookies that came with the tab he added, "You can leave the food if you don't want it, Tiffany,"

"Fine." she consented huffily. "Honestly, you're so rude sometimes," she stood up and followed him out the door. Ignoring her, he turned around to thank the lady leading them out.

Only to see have the restaurant staring and the other coughing and pretending not to.

"May I say you two are the most beautiful couple?"a waiter smiled. "I remember what it's like–young love is so wonderful,"

Tiffany beamed.

"I know! It is, isn't it?"

The woman beamed back.

"Sweetie, we have to go," Syaoran grumbled. Wrapping an arm around her, he gave a smile as she almost melted at his touch. She waved goodbye to the waiter and they finally exited the restaurant and her inane chattering, where he held the door open to his convertible.

"You're such a gentleman," she purred, sliding a hand up his arm. "Mygentleman,"

Oh...that felt good.

"_Get _into the car," he gritted, brushing her off. Tiffany pouted for a moment, but then followed after him.

-

After an exhausting movie later, where Syaoran (and the rest of the theater) had to endure panicked screeches at gory points, he was finally standing in front of her door.

"Sweetie," he began at her front door, an almost bored expression on his face, "We have to talk,"

"Talk...?" she echoed, eyes going wide.

"Yes. Talk," he nodded.

"You're not..." she halted. He gazed at her with a mock mournful expression.

"Yeah, I'm afraid that I'm, not really into this as much as I was before. I'm sorry, you're a great girl–" he didn't get to finish when she burst into sobs, a hand covering her mouth and the other coming out to grab his sleeve.

"Y-you don't mean it do you? Why does this always happen to me?"

Awkwardly, he patted her back and searched his head for words.

"You're a great girl..." he trailed, then winced slightly. She glared at him tearfully through a dripping line of mascara.

"You already said that," then she shook her head, "I should've known better than to go out with you. It was my fault for thinking I could hook a player,"

"I..." he swallowed. He was feeling guilty. Crap. This wasn't supposed to happen. "It's not your fault,"

"We went on _four _dates and you're not interested," she let go of his sleeve, then looked at him again. Taking in his amber eyes and perfect face. She buried her face in her hands and opened the door to her house, stumbling inside where she hesitated slightly, glancing back at him one more time before flinging it closed.

Syaoran winced completely this time.

After a moment of silence, he went back to his convertible and hopped in, pulling out of the driveway. As he drove, he fished out his cell phone from his pocket, flipping it open and dialing.

"Hey," an amused voice answered. "Got me on speed dial yet?"

"No."

"Bad mood much?"

"It was way messier than I thought it would be,"

"Ah," he nodded, "The breakup with Timpani–Terry–"

"Tiffany," Syaoran informed.

"Same difference. Remember when you went on a date with someone named diarrhea in German and when you found out you 'dumped her sorry ass', as you put it. That was _so _funny..."

"_Eriol,"_

"Alright, alright. So, you honestly feel bad about this Tiffany? You went on four dates with her, got bored, acted cold during your last date, and dumped her at the end."

"Yeah," he half laughed, then caught himself, "But seriously, she actually liked me,"

"And...?"

"And, she didn't like me just because of my money and looks...well, maybe that was part of it, but," Pause. "Okay, maybe that was a big part of it,"

"Hey," Eriol interrupted. "It's good that you feel bad because, you know I don't like how you date a pimp-like amount of girls, but I still don't get it."

"Well, she said it was her fault for trying to change a player...and, uh, that implies that she liked me..." Come to think of it, he was already forgetting himself. "You're right," he said. "I don't get it."

On the other end, Eriol chuckled.

"Okay buddy."

"This is bull."

"And I'm glad you figured it out. So, crash at my place tonight?"

"Fine."

Silence.

"You're not going to say anything else? No 'I'll come later since I'm going to go pick up a chic?' or 'I'm gonna get a date, wait for me?'"

"Hey! I don't always say that,"

"Yes you do,"

"Ok, whatever! 'I only had lunch and there's tons of time to impress some girls now that I'm single, available, and half the day's left, so you'll have to wait until it's dark to see me,'" he recited, then smirked, "Better?"

"Glad to see you're back," Eriol answered dryly.

"Not my fault I'm hard to resist."

The phone almost reverberated Eriol closing his eyes.

"Catch ya later playboy," his weary voice came.

"Bye pimpette,"

"Now wait a–"

Syaoran hung up. Eriol was going to kill him tonight, he thought happily. But honestly, he really owed it to him for making him feel a lot better.

Suddenly a thought occurred to him.

"Pimp-like amount of girls?" Syaoran said incredulously. Then he frowned, considering. "Yeah, he has a point there,"

The one thing that still puzzled him was the guilty feeling when he was dumping Tiffany...it only happened to him like three or four times previously, and even that was only when he first started dating.

Argh. Scowling, he decided that thinking this much was killing brain cells and just pinned it down as an off-day.

So he headed off to do exactly what he told Eriol he would.

Impress some chics.

Stopping at a red light, he pulled out his sunglasses and slid them on. Spotting a few giggling girls eyeing him in the car beside his he flashed them a suave smile–and their giggling increased. The light turned green and, giving them a wink, he sped off.

It didn't quite satisfy him yet, so he drove slowly down a small street, ignoring the scores of impatient drivers behind him (he was only going a little below the speed limit after all), and caught the eye of a college girl on the sidewalk. Resting an arm on the side of his convertible, he cocked an eyebrow. Brunette gave him an amused look.

"Go back to your high school boy," she called.

"Can't I admire in peace?"

She gave him a considering smile.

"Sure, why not?" She blew a kiss. Syaoran held up two fingers, lazily giving a salute before driving past, finally happy with two accomplished missions. Pulling out of the small street he leaned back in his seat.

Running a hand through his hair...

He was back, yo.

-

Four hours, five guy friends and two movies later landed Syaoran in a club, one of the ones that were busy rather early since it was only six o'clock. He flashed his ID to the bouncer and passed into the dark club, lights flashing and sweaty bodies pressing together.

He joined in the fray and promptly a person was there. Closing his eyes in pleasure, he danced, switching partners until their faces all became one blur and his mouth felt like paper.

Panting, he collapsed in a chair, asking for a bottle of water from the first person he came upon.

"Are you sure about that?" the server asked in a British accent, leaning forward so her cleavage was exposed in her tight leather shirt. "Why don't you get something...more...exotic?"

He eyed her, mouth twitching. She was sickeningly obvious...but the view was quite nice he admitted.

"Oh? Like what?"

"Like a martini, daiquiri...vodka," British belle bit her lip, "Maybe I can get a break and we can get drunk together, how 'bout that?"

"I don't know belle, it sounds great but..." he toyed, tapping the table thoughtfully.

"Aw, come on. I can get that break right now if you want. Alcohol's much sweeter with company,"

"I'm sure it is." Nodding. "But see, that's where the problem is," he furrowed his eyebrows.

"What?"

"Well, I wouldn't know what to do because I'm underage," a gleeful smile appeared at seeing her shell-shocked expression. "Don't want to be booted out of the club, now do I? Maybe when I get older, belle. Until then, just the water please."

Turning around, she walked away stiffly without another word.

Well, that had been momentarily entertaining. Syaoran propped his leg up on the empty chair beside him, smirking at the physical reaction he had gotten. He wasn't a nut, he definitely knew he had something to get those reactions.

"Now wasn't that cold?" a dry voice came from behind him.

He started, swivelling around.

"Relax, I'm just commenting,"

The voice drew him to a girl sitting at a table a little ways behind him. Surprised, his eyes trailed over her. She didn't look like somebody who would frequent a club...in fact, she looked rather innocent. She had auburn hair, shoulder-length and wavy at the bottom. Her eyes were a shade so green they were practically emerald, the kind he'd only seen in contact lenses. She looked like something pure, an angel...

He caught himself. What was he thinking? Reminding himself that she just insulted him and those eyes of hers were probably contacts, he said,

"Seems like you don't approve,"

She seemed startled for a moment, taking in his face. Then, licking her lips, she replied,

"No, that was really mean. You played with her,"

"You're feeling sorry for her?" he raised an eyebrow skeptically, "Did you see her and what she was insinuating?"

"Well," she became defensive, "Nobody deserves to be tricked into believing something that isn't true no matter who they are,"

He fell silent.

"Well what would you know about me anyway?" he said angrily.

"Oh," Green eyes widened. "Uhh...I was just wondering you know. Sor_ry _for getting your panties in a bunch." a hand clapped over her mouth. "Ok, seriously I'm sorry for that. I didn't think."

"I can tell," he couldn't help muttering. Her mouth fell open.

"Well pardon me then princess, I was just wondering if you had one shred of guilt in you and maybe I just wanted you to say sorry,"

"I was just having some fun. I don't need naive strangers telling me I need to change and to become a knight in shining armor, because that's not who I am. Do you normally go sticking your nose into people's business?"

Red crept into her cheeks.

"No, I don't."

"Well most people consider it rude, if you didn't know. You have no significance in their lives, you don't know them, and here you are telling them what to do. Most people wouldn't take very well to that," He sneered.

"I can see that." she murmured.

"So that only makes me wonder what your own life is like? If you know what other people should do so well, then your life must be _perfect,"_

Suddenly her head snapped up and she glared at him, and his grin faded when he saw the tears in her eyes.

"You know what you are? You're a jerk. You don't know anything about me either, and if you did then you'd know my life's anything but perfect. Don't worry, I already know you're not the knight in shining armor, I have a pretty good idea of what you are already. You're one of those man-whores that date girls then dump them, and you wouldn't be taken in to show any parents but snuck through the back doors instead. Those girls probably cry their eyes out for you but you just move onto the next one,"

Syaoran froze, stunned.

"But don't worry, consider me one less thing you have to ruin your life...you won't have to put up with me any longer," she got up and stalked into the crowd without another word.

Jaw clenching after her, he tore his gaze away, sitting silent at the table. Then he moved his hand to rub his hair, and the action brought on an onslaught of emotion. He felt irritable, lowly, and angry. The reminder of what she said, a perfect stranger, meeting _him _and seeing something that was disgusting was absolutely ridiculous. And irritating.

"Damn," he muttered, pinching his forehead. Glancing up, another thought occurred to him. "Where's my water?" British belle was nowhere to be seen. Kicking back his chair, he made his way up to the bar.

"Have you seen a girl with black hair and a leather shirt working here?" he asked the bartender, who was cleaning glasses with a rag. He raised an eyebrow at him.

"Mirabelle?"

"Er...yeah,"

"Yeah she works here, but she's on break now so I'm afraid you're going to have to wait to see her,"

Syaoran sighed, frustrated. This really wasn't his day.

"Fine then. Can I have some water?"

"Why, she blow you off?" the bartender inquired, an alarmed tone creeping in.

"No, no," he waved a hand, the green-eyed angel haunting him, "Just wondering."

"Alright," relaxing, the bartender slid a bottle of water across the counter. Syaoran paid, telling him to keep the change. Unscrewing the cap and gulping down the liquid, it was a matter of seconds before it was done and tossed into trash. But a nagging feeling still fluttered, restless, inside of him and he knew it was all that girl's fault. Grimacing, he settled firmer into the seat by the bar, hoping it would go away in time.

It didn't.

Cursing under his breath, he reasoned he'd just leave. The gnawing increased. Finally, almost a side thought, he thought maybe he'd find her.

And much to his dismay, the feeling receded.

Groaning inside his mind, he got up from the stool. If he didn't find her, then he hoped to god he would never see her ugly face again (of course it wasn't really ugly).

After spending the next half hour scouting the people standing by the wall, then dancing around searching for her, and then even going back to the tables, he concluded she wasn't anywhere. Either she had left the club or was in the washroom, and he really didn't want to think about what would happen if he barged into a washroom full of women.

He spent another fifteen minutes keeping an eye out for her, but eventually gave up when he realized he wasn't having any fun at all. The girl and his conscience had ruined the night at the club.

And it was only nine o'clock.

Sighing in defeat but honestly too drained to be angry anymore, he got out his keys and exited the club. His eyes fixed solely on his Mustang, he strode towards the parking lot when suddenly an arm wrapped around his shoulders and a warm voice wafted into his ear.

"Going so early?"

He froze.

"Now isn't that hot?"

He was still frozen.

"Well, I'm guessing you're not one to talk, but that's fine...I like tall, dark, handsome types. You remind me of my first boyfriend actually, but right now that's not important. The point is, I can give you a night to remember,"

He came back to his senses as her hand started creeping down his shirt. Abruptly, he shrugged her off and the girl stumbled back. His back was rigid as he walked away, not even turning back to see the scantily clad woman.

"Fine, asshole! You're missing on something great here!" the angry voice called behind him. But still he kept a steady pace, and when he got to his car he slammed the door behind him. Sitting in his seat, his jaw clenched.

He was sickened. How screwed up was that?

Taking off his sweater and tossing it in the backseat, he was startled when something flew out and smacked him in the face. Indignant, he turned on the light and scrabbled around the bottom of his car. Finally he encountered two plastic wrappers, which he picked up, eyes wide with astonishment when he found the two fortune cookies from the restaurant with Tiffany.

"Jesus god," he raised his eyes to the heavens, although the effect was rather ruined since all he saw was the roof of his car. Turning back to the fortune cookies at hand, he opened one, throwing out the cookie and pulling out a slip of paper.

_Watch out, things may be different and you may pass them off as a coincidence when they are not. Regardless, your life will change and so will you._

Staring at the paper, he was baffled and a little chilled. What was that supposed to mean? He didn't believe in fortune cookies, but it still didn't stop a sense of foreboding from falling over him. Still, it had to be a coincidence. He opened the other fortune cookie.

_Watch out, things may be different and you may pass them off as a coincidence when they are not. Regardless, your life will change and so will you._

This was some sick joke. Balling the two pieces of paper up, he chucked them into the back of his car, right into the trunk. They were probably made by a cheap machine, and so many were given out everyday that he just so happened to get two of the same ones. Right?

Yeah.

-

**A/N: **Oi. By the way, I don't own CCS just to let you know. So, whatcha think? Good? Bad? Ok, I admit I need some work on this chapter especially I'm never good with first chapters, but please if you criticize me leave a _constructive _one at least.

R&R


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